


It'd be Called Courting, in the Olden Days

by Alethia



Category: Grey's Anatomy
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-12-30
Updated: 2008-12-30
Packaged: 2017-11-13 20:53:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alethia/pseuds/Alethia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Are you two still on about jogging? Just go freakin' running; what's the big deal?"</p>
<p>Owen invites Cristina to go jogging.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It'd be Called Courting, in the Olden Days

**Author's Note:**

> Set around 5.10 "All By Myself," at some indeterminate point in the future where Meredith knows. Originally posted [here](http://alethialia.livejournal.com/340059.html).

Hunt inhaling a protein bar was too much of a temptation; Cristina couldn't quite help herself. "Jeez, what? Have you not eaten for the last week?" she asked as he blew in the front doors, water droplets still clinging to his jacket.

Hadn't the man ever heard of an umbrella?

Hunt chewed quickly, slowing his gait and looking vaguely uncomfortable that she'd caught him off-guard. He finally swallowed and half-smiled in that way he had. "Sorry. I got caught in the rain during my morning run and didn't have time to eat. Just trying to get back on track."

Cristina fell into step beside him, helpful since it meant she didn't have to meet his eyes; he was oddly insistent about that. "Isn't the good thing about getting out of the Army that you get to stop with the exercise?" 

"Habit," he said shortly. Then, curious: "Do you run?"

She glanced over, then away. He was watching. "No. Well—no." Dammit, why did she have to pause? Hunt didn't _miss_ stuff like that. Now she'd gone and piqued his interest.

"'Well?'"

"Meredith—she made me—she had this ridiculous idea that jogging would make us happy," Cristina said quickly, hoping that'd close the discussion. Because, yeah, _ridiculous_. Also, when did this become about _her_?

"Interesting. The Army used jogging to make us miserable."

"Because of the endorphins," Cristina continued. "She thought the endorphins from jogging would make us happy." _Why_ was she explaining, as if she needed to defend something? It wasn't Cristina's stupid idea. 

Hunt slowed their pace further, practically had them at a leisurely stroll. Some of the nurses were starting to _look_. "What happened?" he asked. 

"Didn't take."

"The endorphins or the happiness?"

"Both. Either. Turns out, it really is just an instrument of misery."

"I don't know," he mused. "The endorphin idea has some merit. Maybe you didn't do it for long enough."

That was...suspiciously ambiguous phrasing.

Cristina looked at him askance. "Are we still talking about jogging?"

Hunt flashed a smile—honestly delighted—before sobering as they reached the elevator. "Do you want to run with me in the morning?"

Cristina snorted. "Yeah, that'll happen."

"Excellent. See you at six." He ducked away, leaving Cristina open-mouthed.

She really hated that.

"But—sarcasm. Ever heard of sarcasm?" she called to the closing elevator door. Hunt stuffed the rest of his protein bar in his mouth and didn't respond.

*** 

"Jogging," Cristina told the little cafeteria table for, oh, about the millionth time.

"I heard," Meredith said evenly, totally not feeling Cristina's pain.

Meredith would feel Cristina's pain. She'd make sure of it.

"This is all your fault, you know."

_That_ got a reaction. " _My_ fault? How's it my fault?"

"You made us go jogging so we'd be happy."

"And that certainly worked out well." Meredith went back to primly eating her sandwich, like all was right with the world. Traitor.

"I'm serious," Cristina insisted.

"Did I make you tell Hunt? Which, by the way, thank you for forever imprinting my patheticness on him."

" _Our_ patheticness. If I have to be pathetic, you're gonna be right there with me."

Now Mer just looked sulky. "I'm starting to rethink having you as my person."

"Please, like you could find someone better."

Meredith actually smiled, like Cristina had made a joke.

What _ever._

"So what are you gonna do about Hunt?" Mer asked, finally seeing this for the vital issue it was and paying proper attention to it.

"Go jogging, apparently." Cristina got the horrible feeling now _she_ was being the sulky one. Maybe Meredith hadn't been the best choice for this discussion.

Alex set his tray down at their little table and folded himself into a seat. "Are you two still on about jogging? Just go freakin' running; what's the big deal?" He promptly shoved half his sandwich in his mouth and looked at them like he'd solved all their problems.

Charming.

"The big deal is some of us have spent our lifetimes conditioning our minds, not voluntarily sweating and eyeing each other in locker rooms," Cristina said. Because _duh_.

Alex didn't rise to the bait, the bastard. "So what you're saying is you're out of shape."

Why were they all composed the day Cristina was having an issue? Would it be so much to ask for another of his girlfriends to go crazy or something?

So Cristina was a bad person; it wasn't like she kept it secret.

"I don't remember inviting you into this conversation."

"Please, God, disinvite me from this conversation."

"Hey, you sat down with us, buddy."

"You're at our table." He gestured to said table, then the cafeteria, like _she_ was the one being difficult. "Don't you have some secret girltalk dimension or something?"

"What Alex means is, maybe you should talk to Hunt about the jogging," Mer interrupted, using her 'I'm being reasonable' voice, which Cristina was totally immune to, by the way.

"I do?" Alex asked, quick on the uptake, as ever.

Cristina ignored him and turned to Mer, not quite believing it. "Honesty, that's what you're giving me right now? Go...be honest," she said with distaste.

"Yup. Honesty is the best policy for a successful relationship." Seriously, did she get that she sounded like a Dear Abby column? Cristina would tell her, but Alex looked like he was memorizing every word to recount to Izzie later and Cristina really didn't need to give them any more ammunition.

"Crap, I think I liked you better when you were lonely and miserable," Cristina muttered instead.

***

"I'm a whiner."

Hunt's head snapped up, concentration palpably shifting from the chart to her. He frowned. "Come again?"

"A whiner—I whine. When doing things I don't want to do, I whine." Did she need to spell it out here? This was God-awful enough as it was.

To his credit, Hunt got it immediately: "And you don't want to go running."

"Right. So I'll whine and I know it, but what's worse is that I don't want you to see it. I know I do it, but I—you don't need to see it."

"I don't need to see something normal about you," he parroted, like he didn't follow.

Dammit, he needed to follow her here. She couldn't take much more of this sharing, caring crap. At least, not without the promise of several orgasms quickly to follow.

"What's worse is that I care; I care enough not to want you to see me whine and that pisses me off."

"Because..."

"Because you're a real man," she said. Duh.

Hunt studied her, probing. And, granted, if Cristina had gotten that line she'd say something snarky about fake men and possibly dildos, but in this case it wasn't entirely appropriate. Also, Hunt seemed to be a better person than she was.

Which was a whole different thing she hated caring about. 

"I see," Hunt said eventually.

"I doubt it."

"You care what I think of you. You don't want me to see you in a negative light." Hunt sounded almost fond of that fact, like it was somehow endearing.

Cristina didn't _do_ endearing.

Just to make things clear: "In a non-pathetic way. That's true, only not pathetic."

"You're never pathetic," he agreed.

"Right." Now that they had that settled.

"We'll save the jogging for another day."

Or maybe they didn't have that settled?

"Wait, what?"

"What _do_ you like to do?" he pressed.

This was the last time Cristina ever listened to Meredith, _that_ was for sure. What, now he wanted to _talk_ about it? Or something. Cristina really wasn't following.

"Cut people open," she said obviously.

Hunt half-smiled, nodded, and gestured for more. "Outside of work, what do you like to do?"

"Get naked and sweaty and ride big, strong men until they cry for their mommas."

Sadly, Hunt didn't even react. "We'll save that for later. Gourmet coffee tasting, bungee jumping, I don't know...knitting?" Hunt proposed. "You're telling me there's _nothing_ outside this place you like to do?"

"Knitting? Seriously? Do I look like the kind of person who knows her way around a sewing kit?"

Hunt nodded once, decisive. "Something to work on, then. We'll try things out."

"Hang on, are you trying to ask me out?"

"Oh, did you just get that?" he asked, mild. "That was the invitation to spend time in my company outside this building. Though the jogging can wait for another day."

"But didn't we just establish that I whine?"

"Indeed, and that you don't want me to see that side of you. Oh, and you care what I think," he said, listing off the points. At least he was matter-of-fact about it.

Cristina nodded. "So we cross jogging off the list."

"For now." His voice turned lower, somehow more intimate. "But I'll see you whine eventually, Cristina. I'll want to. I'll want to see it all." He looked at her with that unbearable intensity—forceful, determined, and still almost pleading. 

Cristina blew out a breath. "Maybe," she said, short. Then she walked away before he got her to further compromise her sanity. Take up knitting, for example.

But. Hunt wanted to _know_ her. Which was...

Whatever. So long as they got to knowing in the Biblical sense. And soon. 

***

Fin.


End file.
